I Still Think of You
by merridiem
Summary: On the third anniversary of her disappearance, Chat Noir tells Ladybug about his mother.


On the third anniversary of his mother's disappearance, Adrien looked in his mirror in search of her. If he covered his nose and mouth, which had grown thinner and less childish over the years, he could almost imagine that the eyes he saw were hers. It frustrated him that their shape wasn't exact, that all that was left of his mother's almond eyes were a handful of photographs. When he noticed Plagg watching him silently from the other side of the room, he turned away from the mirror and went to sit on his bed.

Adrien was glad that his schedule was hectic, because he didn't have much time to dwell. Shoots and interviews and patrols and school distracted him. He tried to distance himself from what happened to his mother by attempting to ignore his memories of her. Through online forums, he discovered that it was because he hadn't "processed" her loss yet. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

During lulls in his schedule, when shoots were rescheduled or homework was done early, he'd stare at his hands. They were longer and thinner than the hands that had touched his mother. They weren't his, he would think. He'd press his fingernails into his palms. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave marks. If he squeezed hard enough, maybe he could stop himself from growing up and abandoning the boy that his mother knew. Seventeen tasted bitter on his lips.

Sometimes at night he whispered her name like a prayer. Plagg pretended he didn't hear.

He had a patrol that night. When he muttered, "Transforme-moi," Plagg nodded solemnly before entering his ring. He noticed that he wasn't buzzing with the energy that he usually had as Chat Noir. If anything, he felt more tired. He didn't want Ladybug to notice, but he knew that she would.

He took his mind off his mother and focused on the wind as it hit his cheeks and tangled his hair. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop and vaulted over chimneys with ease. He welcomed the stinging in his lungs from the frigid night air. In these moments he lost himself in his persona, detaching himself from his reputation as the perfect son of Gabriel Agreste and slipping into the welcoming arms of anonymity. He was a blur, barely distinguishable from the darkness of the night sky.

He reached his destination atop the Notre-Dame Cathedral and landed a few feet away from Ladybug. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she patted the spot on the roof next to her, gesturing for him to sit down. He did. He didn't want to break the silence, but he realized it was uncharacteristic of him to shy away from conversation. After thinking for a moment, he settled on, "You look radiant tonight, My Lady."

She rolled her eyes knowingly and replied, "You don't look too bad yourself." Over the years, Ladybug had begun to join in on his flirting. It had embarrassed him to no end when she'd started, but he soon got used to it. Most nights, he enjoyed it. Tonight, he forced a smile.

"Are you feeling alright?" Ladybug turned and looked him over from head to toe. She eventually settled on his eyes. As ridiculous as it was, they used to unsettle her with how brightly they glowed in the darkness. They comforted her now, like the nightlight she still kept plugged in near her desk.

"Yes," he said flatly. Realizing his mistake, he added, "I'm claw-sitively purr-fect."

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. "You used that pun last time. Spill."

"What?"

"Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened. I'm fine."

"You can't lie to me at this point, Chaton."

"I'm not lying."

Ladybug's eyes widened in what Adrien thought was concern. "Is it something serious? Chat, if something's wrong, I want to know."

There was a small part of him that, disgustingly enough, wanted her sympathy. This part of him swooned at the idea of attention from his Lady. He craved her affection and consolation, and it made him sick. _You're horrible_, he thought, _wanting to use this to your own benefit._ Still, a weak thought crossed his mind: telling her could help him. He could stop keeping it all to himself. This could be an opportunity to process, or to at least decide if he wanted to.

"It's... serious," he muttered. He didn't want to shock her. He tried to find the words to ease her into the situation. "It happened a while ago, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Um," he fell silent, staring at the cars passing below. From his perch above the city, he could watch the tiny people go about their nightly activities without being seen by them. He always felt a connection to Ladybug as they observed the teeming streets from above, like the two of them were in on a fantastic secret. He felt her hand take hold of his arm.

"Take your time."

He couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed. He knew she wasn't trying to patronize him, but her grip on his arm and her saccharine tone made him feel like a child lost at a fair. He began to regret trying to tell her.

"Okay. Um," he briefly made eye contact with Ladybug before deciding it was a bad idea and staring down at his boots. "I was homeschooled for a while." He felt his face turn red. Why did he keep dodging around the main point? Why did he think this was a necessary detail? Would Ladybug think this was too personal, that soon the small details he'd shared over their two and a half years of partnership would form a trail of crumbs leading to the Agreste mansion?

When he looked up at her, she nodded for him to continue.

"I said that because I'm glad that I was at home. If I was at school, I wouldn't have had a chance to... say goodbye." Why was he tearing up? This was pathetic. "So, um. I was doing schoolwork in my room, and my mom came in, and she told me that she loved me... And I thought it was weird, because it came out of nowhere. Like, I already knew, you know? And she said she was going out for a while. She didn't say where to. And she... never came back."

At this point, tears were sliding across the leather of his mask and to his neck. They made his skin, red from embarrassment, itch.

For a moment there was silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ladybug wipe her own tears. "I..." Ladybug croaked, struggling to find the words to say. "I'm so sorry."

What came next was expected. A pair of slender arms wrapped around him, gentle gloved hands moved his head to rest in the crook of her neck. He found that he couldn't cry anymore, so he decided to keep talking.

"The police found her brooch near the Seine. But that was it. We don't know what happened." He figured this was safe to say. Gabriel Agreste was very demanding about the details of his wife's disappearance being kept a secret from the media, including the date. "But. It's been exactly three years and I miss her."

"I'm so sorry it's been three years and I didn't know," Ladybug gasped, pulling him closer. He felt her breath against his shoulder, hot from crying. "Chat, I'm so sorry."

It wasn't often that Chat Noir was at a loss for words, but this patrol was a perfect example. He felt so vulnerable, so naked, so much like Adrien. He was reminded that although the citizens of Paris viewed them as indestructible, they were just lonely kids wearing masks.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he wasn't sure if now was the right time to break away from her, but he did anyway. As he looked her in the eyes, she rushed to wipe her tears away.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I shouldn't be crying, I just... I couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose my mother." She instantly looked like she regretted saying it. He didn't want her to feel like she had to walk on eggshells.

"I know," he said. "I couldn't have possibly imagined what it would be like before it happened. It still doesn't feel real. Every time I go home, I feel like she'll be there waiting for me, but..." He swallowed. "My dad didn't take it well. He's been really distant, you know? He's always been a little... aloof, but she usually balanced him out. She was so bright. And I feel guilty because sometimes I wondered why they were married. It was obvious that they loved each other, but... It makes me wonder if there's a part of my dad that only my mom could see. She was like that. She could see the good in even the worst person. Like you."

"Like... me?" Ladybug shook her head. As she was overcome by emotions, she felt pieces clicking together inside her brain. Homeschooled, missing mother, detached father. She tried to ignore what she thought could be true. "No, I'm..."

"You are," he said. "You remind me so much of her." She started crying again, and Adrien felt a surge of guilt. Was he making her uncomfortable? He awkwardly wrapped an arm around her, and she returned the favor. They held each other as they sat at their perch above the city. Adrien liked the feeling of being this high up, of knowing that his civilian problems were the size of ants.

Adrien was startled as Ladybug began to move. She wriggled out of his grip and turned so that their faces were only inches apart. She gripped his hand. "I'm so glad," she said, "that out of everyone it could have been, you're my partner."

He couldn't control himself as a broad, crooked grin spread across his face. He wanted to kiss her, but in a different way than usual. It didn't have to be romantic, but in that moment, he wanted to be as close to her as possible. He wanted to hold her until the two of them became one and he never had to go home again. He wanted to learn what an eternity with her felt like.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

Neither of them thought too deeply about what this exchange meant: whether it was platonic or otherwise, or what it meant for the future of their partnership. Frankly, Adrien didn't care. All he could think about was how his hands clutched the small of her back as they embraced again, and how she smelled like sweat and citrus shampoo and something else (possibly flour?) that he couldn't quite place and how in that moment he learned that it was possible to feel so big and so small at the same time.


End file.
